A Game of Grimm Consequences: Redux
by AnyOtherTime
Summary: A progressive story surrounding a Grimm OC, who won't receive its name until much later in the fic. I've joined elements of The Gamer into it, too. If the chapter count is more than 1 or 2, then the chances of this fic taking flight are higher than they aren't. Rated M for some gruesome and psychological moments that will/might happen. Inspired by "A Game of Grimm Consequences."
1. Chapter 1

"I always wanted to fly…"

* * *

In a lone dark place, swirling with dark clouds and spires designed not by hand, but by the twisted nature of this land, a swarm of newborn – but massive - bird-like dark birds called Nevermores could be heard cawing as they flew away. Doing what billions of its other brethren have done. A suicide mission from before their first step outside the black pool.

However, an oddly small Nevermore was sitting next to the spawn pool its other kind has just emerged from. Its eyes glowed a mellow red, similar to other Grimm, but also different.

It spread its wings, and flew off in a completely different direction.

For the next few hours, it flew seemingly randomly, just looking at everything happening, and finding what was there to find. The Nevermore didn't know why it did this, the mission that the others had the minute they emerged wasn't there for it. It didn't know where to go.

But it enjoyed the freedom of flight. It enjoyed not being bound to things like ground, not being bound to any one speed, and to be able to see.

Even if what was there to see wasn't that much.

Whilst flying, it saw others of its kind. Not the able-bodied flying brethren it had emerged with, but the same darkbess-empowering species that it _knew_ it belonged to - the Grimm. All of them, all the sub-species, were going in a general direction. It knew what they were, and what their differences were, even if didn't yet have the brain power to ration their names.

But it knew that the **white-armoured 4-legged furry beings** were faster than, say, the **tough hide bipedal berserkers**, who were slow, but looked capable of taking and giving hits.

The Nevermore didn't know why they were shaped like this, or for what they'd use their weapons for, or where even it was going. Really, there was a lot it didn't know.

It'd like to change that.

* * *

After hours of uninterrupted flying, it hadn't even come close to scouring all of the land, but if it had the capacity to, it'd know that it wasn't anywhere near close to scouring all of the continent.

But it seemed to have searched enough to come across an imposing castle, with ever-rumbling clouds above it, and a moat filled with nature-defying pikes, and a darkness filled with red eyes.

It found it pleasant to be able to just fly across all of it, without much of a care over the terrain. Or lack thereof.

"Pleasant." It had a rough understanding of the word, and it didn't know why the thought of that emotion was what it thought it was feeling. The bird didn't feel emotion, but it understood what it was, it understood that – if it could feel – it'd be feeling it right now.

It was feeling something else… Something it couldn't quite comprehend yet.

"Free."

The feathered Grimm had felt free the minute it had first emerged. It could just tell that this wasn't to be its usual emotion, it knew. It knew it was supposed to feel the same blood-hot anger at whatever its other brothers are against, but it couldn't bring up any of that emotion. Any of that bad emotion.

It didn't feel the bad emotions, nor the good emotions. But right now, it felt free.

The unusually small winged beast landed in one of the many structures high in the castle, hearing and looking at the fitting calls of other nightmare birds calling for their packs, even though such an action was useless.

The bird analysed its much bigger sub-species, and it knew what their body did, and how it functioned. **White-armoured winged creatures, with feathers razor sharp.**

Making a connection (probably the first), it turned to its wings, and saw – while much duller – they were also sharp, and capable of bite.

It didn't know what to do with this information. To hurt? What, though?

Before it could entertain the rare thought, something else had already taken its attention.

Or someone else.

Near where the bird had landed, there looked to be an intentional hole in the wall, looking to be an entrance to the building it hadn't realised was there. Except, there was something – someone – looking out at itself.

It couldn't tell what it was looking at, but it could tell that it wasn't something that came out the black pool, not like it did.

Where the bird was small, walked on two talons, had black fur throughout along with its black wings garnished with black feathers, and a red-stripped mask to go with its look. The other was nothing like it.

It was bigger than itself, but much smaller than any of its brethren; it also seemed to walk on two limbs, but they were nothing like talons, or any of its other species, for that matter, since it held absolutely no fur, the same could also be said for the rest of its body. But its head? It didn't even hold a mask. She had black hair, but it was only for her head, and while it seemed much longer than its feathers, it didn't seem to go past her shoulders; her face was equally as pale as her body, and her orange eyes are as different as they could be, with sclera, and an iris, where the bird was just one pupiless red orb.

The flesh carried an expression, and although it could tell that it was meant to be neutral, it knew that she was feeling some sort of bad emotion, even though it couldn't pinpoint it.

It opened its mouth and a sound came out. Not a scream of terror, but words the Nevermore could not understand. Even if it had the knowledge, it didn't have the processing power to string it to make sense.

In the end, after a few minutes of staring, the flesh – not as big as it felt like it should be - had started on its path down the corridor once more, looking forward and practically ignoring it.

The bird had never seen anything like the amber-eyed being before, but it knew that it wasn't Grimm just by looking at its appearance. Would it find more? It didn't know, but so far, it's seen little of it.

How many times has it seen the light flesh being?

Once. It had seen it once.

How many times has it seen its other kind?

It didn't know, but it had begun to understand the concept of quantity, knowing there was one light, and many darks.

The growing Nevermore – gaining sentience and intelligence at a rate wasn't allowed by its twisted nature – took off, and used its wings to glide over the land. It didn't have a goal, and it didn't yet understand what a goal was, but it will. For now, it finds purpose in flying, and that it will do.

It shall have to come back to the castle though, it feels like it could relate to the light being. Both of them seem like they have no goals.

* * *

**AN: Howdy fellas! And before any of you ask, yes. That is Cinder. Tiny 12 year old Cinder.**

**I've been sitting on this little fanfiction of a fanfiction for quite a while now, and I actually have the whole general story planned out, but I've just always chickened out. If you see this doesn't even have a second chapter, and it's been a while since it's updated, maybe lose some hope. A dead fanfiction of a dead fanfiction, wouldn't it be ironic for it to die as well?**

**There's a lot I wanna say, but I wanna explain the power that our Grimm is gonna have later. It _is_ inspired by The Gamer (much like in the original), but it's gonna be different, too. Hopefully I can explain it fully.**

**Check the original out, goes by the same name, minus the "redux."**


	2. Chapter 2

It had spent, like many times in the last few days, most of its time flying.

Truth be told though, there was not much to see in the barren wasteland that was the Nevermore's home. It had tried scouring the land more deeply, to see anything more than the usual ruins, but it had seen little.

There were more structures scattered throughout the land, but all of them were run-down, and there wasn't any building above 2 stories that haven't fallen. It couldn't tell what they were, but they seemed different from the grandiose castle where the light being resided.

It had landed in one of those, and it had not seen much of interest beyond dust, and debris. It had noticed though, that many of these actually had more of the dark pools where its brethren came from.

Whatever reluctance it should have felt when it approached one of the bigger (but still small) ones, didn't come up, and the midnight bird approaches it candidly.

It could see the pool, and what it was made out of; or better yet, it could describe it. It was black, a pure blackness that reflected no light, very similar to its creations' pelts. The pool looked as if it was constantly squirming in a thick ink-like structure, almost like something was coming out; and it was a few seconds later that the bird saw gleaming red eyes come out of where it was looking into.

It quickly flew away, gathering away from a giant scorpion-like creature. It knew, looking at it, that its mighty spincer was used as bait, and that it could use any of its limbs to disembowel something. The Grimm didn't look bothered to have been just born, and it didn't stretch or test any of its new limbs. It had – like many more – set out in a direction, and carried on his way.

The Grimm scorpion carried its way through the ruins, it would have destroyed anything were it be in his path, if not for its brethren from long ago already done so. It went in the skitter-skatter pattern of its limbs, but before it could get further than the Nevermore could see, it decided to catch up.

For once, it was curious. Curious on where they would go. So, it had started to follow, flying upwards behind the Grimm's back, and tagging along.

After a few hours, it had seen more and more pop up, and it had seen that they were also going into some sort of destination. It had seen many, and some new that it could identify, like the burrowing worms, the armoured top-heavy berserkers, and even others with wings, but obviously of different dimension from its usual flight-able kind.

During all of this, during the trek and the stampede of noise, it started to wonder briefly,

Where was it getting all this information? It did not have it before, but it could tell – if not what they are – then what they do. It couldn't have been logical guessing and connecting, it just wasn't capable of that yet.

It was something to entertain, to wonder. Perhaps it was something all of them had? So that they could better communicate and plan their actions?

On who, though? The light inside the castle? Why were they not storming there? Should it have attacked her?

It was at this point, that it had started to wonder if there was a quantity different between it and the Grimm.

There was one of it, and many of them. Or so, it seems like right now.

There wasn't any dread to come with that fact, it was just that. A fact. If none of them are targeting it now, they wouldn't after the realisation.

After a few longer minutes, the Nevermore had finally seen the purple-tinted ocean, this time looking like there wasn't any land directly ahead of it. And it had seen that there were waves of its kind going under, over, or swimming across. As soon as its stone-faced Grimm had reached the water and under, it stopped. Just looking at how many there were, and how many were coming.

It knew, that this was more than "many."

Taking flight the other way, it traversed backwards where it came from, past the different-sized ruins, and flew through the purple-tinted nightscape.

* * *

It was taking a while for it to arrive back to the nightscape castle, and it was just slowly delving to "boredom," another emotion it didn't feel, but knew existed.

In the long flights that it had done most of its existence, it had done just that: fly. But recently, it had started to occupy its mind with more and more things. Like counting.

It had started to wonder what "quantity" was, and how it could tell that there was more of something, but less of something in comparison.

Looking around, it saw that there wasn't much of anything. Only a rocky atmosphere that's been destroyed over eras of its kind's stampede. Flying for just a little longer, it saw something that it saw only recently – the ruins. Even though those didn't have much, either.

But still, it could tell that there was more landscape than there were ruins, but it didn't know how many there were. Was there a lot of landscape to little ruins, or many landscape to some ruins?

Finding another example, it swept its eyes over the dreaded landscape, finding nothing but said landscape; until it decided to look closer, and separate a material or 2.

It could see that in the landscape, there lay separate others it could count. It knew that there were more rocks than there were spires, more spires than there were cliffs, and more cliffs than there were its Grimm pools of darkness. But the pools of darkness were bigger than any other, so maybe it should factor into that too?

The attempt at mathematics was too much for its brain, and it quickly disregarded all of its previous thought, but not forgetting it.

Slowly, it was learning to think, to remember, and to see patterns. Most importantly, it was learning counting.

* * *

During the rest of the ride towards the palace, the bird tried playing a little more with his newfound skills, had it even known they were skills the other of its friends didn't have. It turned to the blackened sky, and saw that there were more clouds than there was sky. Amongst the sky, it also saw the various flying Grimm, and saw that its species – the Nevermores – were more than any other. Were they stronger – or weaker – by being more?

The sentient Nevermore didn't get to finish that thought on account of the scream that came through a nearby window. It had gotten close enough to the castle to hear it clearly, and close enough to almost get hit by some passing object – a chair by the looks of things.

Fortunately, the chair was the only thing that came out the room. But what came after, was the anguished tears and screams of the same light being from before.

Where before, it was just walking through to wherever it had wanted to go, now it was screaming out to the heavens with tears in her eyes. Calling desperately to whomever she might be calling to. Nothing was happening to it, so the Nevermore assumed that the light had broke.

It knew that it shouldn't have been here, and it seems it doesn't wish to be here either.

Laying on the window sill, the quiet tap of its claws against the rock called it out to the bird, and the flesh just stared at it. Unmoving and – were it to guess – embarrassed that it was caught.

It only lasted a minute before its maskless face, one of sadness, turned to one of anger, as it got into its feet and tried charging at it.

As the winged beast rushed out of the way, the other shouted. Though, like before, it was one riddled with words it could not understand.

Did one of its kind hurt it? Did one of its kind hurt one of its kind? It tried connecting an answer with the little brain power and information it had, completely missing how much more scarred her skin looked than last time.

Before it could ponder – or make the necessary connections – the light flesh being decided to slump against the hole in the wall, hand in her arms, and making some sort of quiet noise.

It was curious - if cautious - of the light's nature. So, it decided to stick around. Even if the other wouldn't be too fond of the Nevermore's decision.

* * *

**AN: Actually did it. Nice.**

**For those of you feeling sorry for Cinder, I'll try and make some happier moments with her, she isn't yet a mastermind capable of bringing down a whole city in the span of a year, she's just a child now. And it leaves a bad taste in my mouth on what I'm insinuating was done to her... I'll keep those to a minimum for those who share my thoughts, and for those who hate it even more.**

**Still, didn't think the M rating'd come to play so soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

Its small but powerful wings flapped against the wind, our Nevermore coursing through the air with no real goal in mind

Though, its lack of goals didn't mean its mind was empty. It was wondering what was wrong with the light being.

A lot had happened when the lighter person decided to stop its tantrum, and its lack of nothingness didn't stop the bird brain thinking of everything that happened - before and after.

At first, it was the utter chaos that the distressed went through. Never in its life had it seen something like that.

Granted, its only knowledge was the information randomly given to it at times (which it still didn't understand), and the little it could compile from its experiences in the Darklands. But still,

It was fascinated.

It couldn't tell what it was doing through, but it could tell from its actions and expressions that it was an obviously bad feeling.

Sadness, perhaps? Even with its one example, it would say that that was a good basis.

And after the rant? After the outburst of...

Anger.

After that outburst, it had just stopped. Making sounds like it was hurting? Yes. Maybe.

When it had stopped and just laid there, it didn't know what to think. Was its earlier proposition correct? Had it really been broken?

After hours - and hours it had spent slowly getting closer - it had decided to test it.

It had pecked her. And a few more times after that for the dormant cub.

To the outsider, it might have looked humorous, but the look it had given itself was one with so many devolving emotions, that the act had shocked it.

The few words it said after - which it still didn't understand - didn't seem like it was much directed at the rude bird, and more at the situation it was in. It had simply just shooed it off with its hands, which only resulted in it taking flight and hovering outside the stylised window.

Getting the best it might get, the blood-shot light went over to some slab. Not at all uncomfortable looking, but her appearing so. After an approx of an hour, it once again lay still.

Odd. So odd.

The Nevermore came back from its daydream. Wondering what "feelings" and "sleep" was. Was it necessary for the light to function? Is it more powerful because it had it? Was its kind weaker for its lack of feelings, and lack of hibernation?

It couldn't say for sure, but it knew that if it tried attacking any of the other dark creatures, the light'd get taken down easily, under the swarm of darkness.

Speaking of, a noticeable change had gone over the area, and it got slightly less dimmer. It seems like the light of the sky has returned. Coincidentally, is the lighter flesh being also up? It wouldn't be far-fetched to think it is.

Well, up or not, figures it'd have time to do so with how long it will take to get back. It couldn't say that it minded the extra flying time, though.

* * *

Once more, a tiny Nevermore that was somehow capable of standing out in the midst of darkness of the land and its brothers, showed up near the palace. And again, it hears the sound of shouting once more.

Except this time, another voice carried along with it.

Beside the younger flesh being, there was a much taller, much broader, also made of flesh being. The two looked to be arguing about something, but it seemed more sided towards the taller of the two.

Like usual, it still couldn't understand, but instead of simply standing there, it tried to at the very least register what they were saying.

The older one started talking, sounding calm with whatever the situation was. "Nau, ai ˌunda'stænd jur jyuŋ ænd d'lirias 'baut jur ˌsit'eithan, bat ju nid to sta 'weriin. Jul bi fain sou lon az ju du az jur tould."

"Ju- Ju kænt du dis! Ju kænt kip mi hir... ai av æ houm! A 'fæmeli! Ai gat a plaes te bi ænd-"

"Shh... Non av dat 'mæterz nau. Jur wid Salem, and wid her, ju hav 'purpas. Si kan meik ju a'nu, meik ju 'samthin 'betar! Av muts mor iuz dan ˌwaˈtevar ˈdrivel av ˈdesteni ju had bæk at _saˈsaiti_." It couldn't tell what the last word was, but the broader being whispered it with such disdain, that it shifted a little further from the two.

"A-Aim..." the lighter one seemed to take a breath, before speaking again. "Ai dount 'wona bi 'samthin 'betar. Ai 'wona bi a 'sam'wun! Pliz... geast let mi gou. Ai wount tel eni'wan."

As a response, it got nothing. Nothing other than a mutter, and a few curses it couldn't quite hear, much less interpret.

"Wi kan tawk 'leitar, 'Sindar. Du az jur tould. Tink ave it az 'houm'werk from bi'for," and with everything that needed saying said, it turned to a closed opening, and started walking towards it.

"We-weit nou, pliz! Ai- pliz! Geast dount liv mi a'loun, not wid..." the sound of it was stopped when the door was forcefully closed.

After that moment, little else could be heard except the ambient sounds of other Nevermores cawing, and the light's false hopes' steps echoing further and further away from the light's room.

Slowly, expecting what was already there, it turned and met eye to eye with itself - the Nevermore.

Its expression seemed to shift from teary-eyed, to steeled in a few moments. Only to crack and leave her with a pained expression.

Too early to do much of else, it seems like it decided to do whatever the older one told it to do. It sat down near some sort of furniture, and opened up something that fluttered about when it opened, having several thin white leaves with something written in them.

Minutes have passed, and it had wondered if its awkward conversation partner had fallen dormant once more. Wouldn't surprise the nightmare bird, if it were being honest.

But, no. The sound of whatever it was holding smacking against the paper leaves, then the wooden equipment it standing on, and then directly to the floor. The one who threw it didn't seem to notice, as it marched towards the hole in the wall it was at.

It had sprung its wings to dodge whatever rage the smaller one would try and send to it, but it had just decided to take the other side - even going as far as moving the chair that was nearby - and just plopping down on it.

It stared. It stared at it, as it stared out into the nothingness that was quite literally filled with nothing. What was out there, it didn't see. Or maybe the bigger-than-it being was doing what it did during flights.

Maybe it was just doing it for the feeling of freedom. Both of them knew - one more than the other - that it was trapped.

As it got closer, the other gave it a quick glance as it moved each step, and with each step, its stares got a little longer. When the bird was close enough for the bigger one to reach out and touch it, it just lay there. Staring at it, before it decided to stare into the sky as well.

It had little to do, and if it was allowed to do this, it doesn't see why not. It had little else to do, and the light being didn't seem to have a goal; not like its brethren.

After a few minutes, it relaxed a little and let out a small exasperated sigh from its mouth. Along with words it still couldn't understand.

"Ai geast 'wana gou houm..."

* * *

**AN: For those of you that don't understand what they were saying, don't worry. They _are_ actual words, just very simplified phonetics of actual words. But even if you don't understand them, don't fret; our little Nevermore doesn't either.**

**Also, really sorry that the chapters are so short, I'm really trying on making them bigger, but it's a lot harder than it looks.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Few changes done to the other chapters, just changed them a little so people have an easier time understanding them. Could've done a little more though, but I'll put that time into working on the future chapters instead of past chapters.**

* * *

The day awoke as any other, with the lighter sombre shade of purple of the sun rising up from the horizon, and with it making it easier to see. Though, the only thing it'd be able to see were the ever-there stampede of Grimm, and their march towards beyond the ocean. It had little idea where it went, or if their destination was actually _the_ ocean; but maybe one day, it could find out.

Looking away from the, the Nevermore - one of the smaller varieties, with the same black feathers, mask, and eyes as any other - turned to the room it was in. Or, well, the room it was in the border of. It wouldn't dare enter, to prevent whatever was in it to not wallow again.

In its cushioned estate, there lay it. A lighter being, deemed "Light" for now, was dormant. "Sleeping," its mind told itself. An unorthodox action that didn't make much of any sense to it, since it didn't need it.

Why was that, actually? Whilst it waltzed from one side to the other on the bricks of the window, it considered why it didn't need sleep. Maybe it was the land? It seemed that the Light gained power from the light, as it only goes to sleep when the sun was out. But it could carry on whenever, and it didn't need to sleep, even when it was barely sunny outside. Were there Lightlands to the Darklands, and would Light be capable of being awake eternally?

Or maybe it was another trait it didn't have. When the bird got closer to it, it heard something that it hadn't heard anywhere else.

A beat.

Something it hadn't seen in any other entity, still or moving. A beat that slowly got slower the more the flesh being relaxed. Were it capable of hearing that far/getting that close, it would've bet that its beat was even slower now.

It didn't know what this beat was, but it came from inside of it. Seemed to pump through the Light's body with purpose. Was it doing it consciously? If it was, why? Instead of wasting energy like so, couldn't it just wait until it needed it? Perhaps she felt like she was constantly under attack, and that's why it still kept it up, even when it was dormant.

Perhaps it was because of it, also a creature of Grimm.

Laying still - failing to realise that it had stopped tippy-tapping across the bricks - it scored a glance at the occupant's room. Within it, it could find little it could grab, and the only few it could grab was only those small enough for it to grasp; but it knew that the bigger being of the two was capable of grabbing potentially anything in here, more than one thing. Meanwhile, it could not.

Whatever differences did they have? Did they see things differently? Touch, feel, think?

It had strayed its eyes back to the one in its thoughts, and saw the it was staring back. They both bore their eyes onto one another, one nervously analysing the other.

The Light stared at the bird, seeing its darkened feathers, red eyes, and marked mask to be the same as any other of its kind; albeit this one was laughably smaller.

The Nevermore stared at the lighter person, seeing in its amber eyes a stubborn expression. Its blacker hair - but shining in comparison to any of its race - went to her back, a mess from her hours dormant.

With the two staring at one another, it felt like anything could happen, with how tense the situation was.

Anything at all...

* * *

Nothing happened between the two's staring contest. The Light had just taken everything and anything it needed from the room in the span of a few seconds, and left through the opening, only coming back seconds later to get some books.

With its clear dismissal of its own living quarters, the small bird realised something it really should have long ago.

This ruined palace had several rooms.

It was huge, many times bigger than the room the Light was in, even if it didn't know the exact factor. Why wasn't it searching for others? It knew that others existed, even if the other flesh being was many times taller and more... degraded? than the much smaller and lighter Light.

The bird - after a moment of wonder - took off, and left from the hole in the wall, the window, its opening, it supposed. It flew around the ruins of the castle, and then flew some more, underestimating its size from before, when it was up high in the sky.

The Nevermore flew around the ruins - in mint-condition compared to the actual ruins that has been trampled by its kind - looking into various glass windows, and seeing various rooms of various sizes.

It saw in them various things. One held various furniture that held various of the books, were they similar to the ones that Light had? There seemed to be various rooms with these, but they appeared to have other things as well. More living quarters? Peering closer, it saw a thin line of dust on everything; it didn't know what that dust meant, but it deduced with the lack of movement or lights than it was, as it feared, barren.

There were other rooms, a few empty, a few destroyed, and even a room big enough to fit hundreds of its kind in there, and still have room for them to move. Uncomfortably, but move.

Beyond the discarded rooms, it saw others. One with a big pool of water, that seemed to have constant steam spew out of it (looks like it was made to purify/cleanse something? Or someone?); one room shaped like a dome, with little to it than its equal dome-like glass roof that it peered into (empty like the others, but different. What use?); and some sort of large corridor, within it tables, chairs, and someone sitting in it ingesting something.

Before it could make the connections, it had gotten close enough for both of them to realise what they were looking at.

Seems like it explored enough to find the Light again, along with little others. Looked to be eating something of sort, that it couldn't quite understand. It had never seen those colours before, and it matched nothing of the outside.

Sitting just outside the several holes in the room, it stared at the actions the other was doing. How the light was using tools of some sort to bring the objects up into its face, which it then repeated, until there was less and less.

Why would it feel the need to do that? Is that a breed of Grimm? Was it doing that to get stronger? Why the tools, too? Did it help? But wouldn't it be easier to just eat it as is, simply by bringing its mouth closer?

With the Nevermore's busy thinking, it was a little late on noticing that the Light's movements have stopped, and was starting at its tiny feathered being. Realising, it stared too.

Moments later, and with the consumer's increasing discomfort, it made an action which involved it taking two of its fingers, pointing them at its own eyes, then pointing at the birds.

The Light quickly left the room after.

* * *

The Nevermore was curious on why the Light kept on fleeing. Could it be because its darkness corrupted its light? Well, maybe if it were thinking literally, maybe? But the other didn't seem that bothered the night before, where they lay dormant where they were, with it in plain view.

It had tried following after, only to be stopped by some invisible field. Between the holes in the walls - windows - there was some sort of material that looked invisible, but stopped any and all entry.

It had spent a few useless moments wandering this as well, and quit before it decided to do something a little less practical and do something like, say, fly into it straight on.

Now that would've been silly.

Still, it wandered around. Not sure where to go, really. It doubts it'd really be able to meet the Light again, now that they met outside their/its room, it knew that the Light'd be more cautious now, and potentially even avoid the invisible windows.

Well, with that moment done, it didn't know much else of what to do.

* * *

Once more, it was at the Light's room, and this time, it was here as well.

Much like before, where the Nevermore had last seen it, the dark-haired person was eating again. Though, it looked like a much smaller meal, and it didn't look to be using the utensils it was before. Why was this? Did it not find a need to?

Such a conundrum.

It caught the bird staring, and glared at the Nevermore. It tried going back to doing whatever it was with the book, but it couldn't. Either out of the anxiety of being watched, or for other reason, the Light got up, and slowly walked towards the window, where the Grimm was laying.

Both not doing anything, but both being ready to jump out the minute any sudden action happens, they planted themselves on different sides of the sill. One enjoying their meal, and the other wondering if the _invisible window forcefield_ was actually a thing or not.

Suddenly, a few pieces of crumb were thrown its way. Not in an aggressive way, if it had to guess, looking at the glutton who threw the bread crumbs at it. The Light kept shifting its eyes towards itself, and then the nothingness, its cheeks increasing in blood, and growing ever redder.

It glanced at the black bird a few more times, before it suddenly shielded its vision and turned completely away from the other. Its mouth coming out words that it understood little of.

"'Monti, wai did ai dink dat wude uark...?"

The pitter-patter of the Grimm's talons against the rock-work told it that the Light that it was growing nearer. When it chastised itself for letting its guard down, it quickly turned around, and saw the black bird acting like a regular bird.

It stared at the piece of crumb, analysing it whilst it turned its head every which way, pecked it a little, before picking the entire piece of bread in its beak, and bring it down its gullet.

The Light stared, shocked at what it just did. Could the flesh being not understand why it did that? Well, that makes two of them, since it didn't understand why _it_ devoured, either.

A few seconds passed - in disbelief for the Light - as the Nevermore wondered why it did this. The food was stuck in its inside, going nowhere, and not going through any organism. It just didn't hold it.

In the end, it just decided to projectile spit the piece of crumb to the curb, which resulted in some sort of repeating "ha-ha" sound to come from the Light, as it struggled to breathe.

It supposes, that it did the devouring thing wrong?

* * *

**AN: Man, this took me a little while longer than it should have, I was just having so much difficulty trying to have this chapter stay as a "light chapter, with little going on, and just having Nevermore eating stuff Cinder gives it." Seriously, I wanted to do other stuff, but I couldn't figure out a good way to connect the different segments.**

**Still, first of a few Cinder bonding minutes we'll have. Hopefully this'll balance it out.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry it took so long, fellas.**

* * *

The Grimmlands. The land remains what it's always been, and it hasn't changed any since our sentient bird's first few steps, nor has it changed at all in the past millennia. Most likely, it'll stay unchanged in the future, too.

Off in the distance, a flock of birds - nightmarish in every way - flew over, heading to a place completely different from their own. To destroy it? To revel in it? It had a feeling that the other Nevermores weren't migrating for a new place to live in.

The Nevermore, a bird of unnatural size compared to how powerful all of the others looked, sat in one of the lands' ruined buildings. So far gone, that most have melded to the ground, and crumble almost instantly, but it managed to find one that held under its small weight.

Still, as the bird was looking through landscape - analysing the few Grimm that come every few minutes - it wondered again about the concept of before. _Quantity, _it assumed. It had tried so hard to understand it, and it had a loose concept of it; it knew to differentiate quantities when comparing, but it could never put a name on how much there is. Much like it had before with other similar things, it looked above, and saw that there were more **clouds** than there was **sky.** But it couldn't tell much of it, it just had a loose understanding of "a little more, an amount, and more." It was befuddling.

Did the Light know?

Perhaps. Whatever fear it had, the Nevermore knew that the Light was probably much stronger than it, and much better understanding of the world.

But why was the Light so much more knowledgeable? Did it have the same power it had, where it was randomly given insight on whatever it was looking at? It had still wondered about that, even going as far as trying to do it again, focusing on the withered trunks sticking out of the ground, so few of any significant height.

That Light... Whatever species or sub-species it might be, the bird was infinitely curious about them. Were they us Grimm's enemies? Or were they capable of controlling us? Did we live at war, or in harmony? If in harmony, then are we at war with something else?

Are Light-Dark beings a thing?

The sudden thought confused the Nevermore. Not because it was shocking, but because it genuinely didn't think it could happen. Even its simple naming of the two species signified that. You can't have light with dark, and you can't have dark with light. But there's no such thing as a dark-light. Much less a Dark-Light.

Maybe if the Nevermore knew the language, it could ask. Not sure how it could ask, but at least it'd be easier if it knew.

It was at times like these, it wanted to trigger its unknown intelligent power. At times, it had tried to, using the rundown stumps of trees, it could tell that it were trees. But it didn't get much more other than that concept. "Trees."

For all of its sentience and growing brain power, it still couldn't understand. At least it was getting the concept of quantity well enough, and unbeknownst to it, names as well.

The Nevermore flapped its wings, preparing to take flight, and doing what felt natural before doing so.

It didn't expect the movement of its body to be the final straw for the ruins to finally fall, the bird following its destruction before it could take flight. It went down with a caw of surprise.

* * *

When it had reached the castle, oncemore ignoring the lack of land by flying over it, it wasn't expecting the Light to not be in its room.

Perhaps it had been foolish to think that, but it had gotten accustomed to meeting it here. The Nevermore had even seen the other outside of its room, and their first meeting had been somewhere else, too.

Before it could think on the reason _why _it thought the non-Grimm was in its room - it would've been its first thought on the concept of _patterns_ \- it, with its keen ears, heard something from near the base of the castle.

Thankfully, the sound seemed to come directly below the room it was in. Peering its head down while on the cobblestone sill, it saw the Light, and one of its kind, the Dark.

They were doing something that their species had been doing for millennia now, but the Grimm avian only had inklings of this. The two were fighting.

Why? Was its old assessment from oh so long ago correct? Or had any of the two parties triggered the other? If it was the second, then it guessed it was the Grimm who was trifled, considering how spooked the fleshy victim was.

Before it really knew what to do and which side to pick, it flew down. Should it do something to stop the long-term fight of the two races?

Just as it had gotten close enough to do anything - whatever it might be -, the furry Grimm aggressor suddenly vanished to dust like it had been swiped by something invisible.

**"Cinder... It has been months, and yet... you can't handle a simple Beowulf?," **from the castle it was just in, a woman came out the entrance. _Woman?_ The more the stalking Nevermore saw of her, the more the creature's mind filled in. It knew that this woman's name was **Salem,** the **Queen of the Grimm**. And even though it couldn't see what she looked like, it knew her characteristics.

Salem had white skin like the porcelain of our Nevermore's mask, and red veins pulsing through her furless skin - the same red as its eyes. Were her eyes also the same colour? Yes; but she had irises, where it did not. The queen seemed to have no black on her, other than what was on her body, even her hair was almost the same white as her skin.

**"Trust me when I say this, Cinder: you would do well being useful to me. Lest you find out what happens if you _aren't._"**

The Light (Cinder?) seemed to cower beneath her, but it seemed muted; like the lesser being was used to the queen's fear factor.

She sighed, as she walked up to the lesser Light, the smaller one looking much more tanned in comparison to her. Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, Salem spoke again.

**"We'll get your semblance out, Cinder. Be it one way,"** Salem gripped her shoulder, and by the looks of the other's screams, it was painful, **"or another."**

**"Go back to your room. If you can no longer physically train, you may mentally train.****"** getting up, the queen started walking away, before taking one look back, and addressing the Light once more **"am I understood?"**

"J-Jes..." it spoke, lightly and painfully.

With her order understood, Salem turned back to her course back to the castle. Wasn't much longer before the Light followed her trail, and entered with barely concealed tears on her face.

The Nevermore - perched on one of the castle's designed dents - watched all of that with a keen eye, very confused about what had just happened.

Its power, it had decides to work more than it ever had for this Salem queen, and had given it plentiful information about her. Too much, even.

Months? Beowulf? Queen? Cinder? Semblance?

It was all a little too much, and the winged creature didn't even understand what a "her" was. Why was Salem a her? Was the Light also a her? Was the older greying being from before also a her? What about it, the Nevermore? Was _it_ also a her?

The Grimm didn't know where Salem was, but it did know where this _Cinder_ person was. Without wasting much time, it flew back to the Light's room, hoping for some answers even though it had little ways of communicating its questions.

* * *

When the Nevermore had reached the window, it was surprised to find the Light already there.

The Light - or Cinder? - stood there awkwardly, rubbing its sore body. Didn't take long for it to notice that the bird was here already, and when it did, Cinder decided to glare at it.

But it didn't take long for its weary glare to give up, and look to the corner, where its desk was. Opposite to the desk in the other wall, was the Light's bed - a complete mess of blankets. The rest of the room seemed empty except for a closet, and other storage units (also empty).

As the Nevermore looked on, the Light carried its damaged body towards where its books were, and sat down on the seat. Whatever tension there was with Cinder, it carried on, even when it tried ignoring the Nevermore stalking it in favour of its exercises.

That left the Grimm with little to do. And with little to do, its tiny brain was left to process what it had gone through just minutes before.

Right now, it _desperately_ needed an answer, and the little bird didn't know how or where to get its answers. Except for one...

One question it didn't know, but could easily find out... The invisible window forcefield. Did the Light's room have it? The Nevermore had seen it stick its body out the window, and even chairs, but it could very well be exclusive to the Nevermore's race.

It was standing on the window's stonework now, and could just bounce a little forward to see if there was something there or not. But its overloaded mind needed something now.

So, it sprung its wings, and flew immediately into Cinder's room, the Light reacted appropriately to the bird's projectile form, as it immediately got out of the way.

The bird landed on Cinder's desk, content with its new discovery of the forcefields forcing everyone out, not just Grimm.

Cinder though, was freaked out over (what it thought was) attempted murder. Armed with nothing but a pencil, it aimed the _deadly weapon_ at the Nevermore.

"Wa-Wat du ju want?! STEI **BACK**!" the light yelled, aiming its pencil at it. However, the only response the Nevermore gave, was its understanding of the word "back." Back away? Was it not welcome? Why? Was the forcefield supposed to keep away Grimm, but did it not work? With so many questions, it didn't notice Cinder's freak-out coming closer and closer.

Finally, with the feeling of the Nevermore's empty gaze on it, Cinder screamed. The pencil in its hands turned red-hot, charring and cracking in under the second it took for the unknown heat to appear. When it was thrown, the pencil was a dark breaking blob, but changed mid-trajectory as it broke off, and become sharp charred wood bits flying towards the bird.

With a surprise caw, it flew to the side quickly, feeling the intense heat almost clipping its body. When the pencil shards hit the small desk, it struck through easily, and stayed there; a fire hazard ready to begin with the minute.

By the look of Cinder's face though, that's not what it was concentrating on.

"Ai did it..." looking down at its hand, looking normal, and not even red from the heat. Suddenly jumping into the air, the Light said it louder. "AI DID IT! MAI **SEMBLANCE!**" Cinder's power?

On the Light's face, it seemed happy, but above all... relieved? Cinder looked to the Nevermore with a look of thanks, but before anything could be said, the sound (and smell) of burning seemed to finally kick in, and it turned to look at the desk.

"MAI BUKS!" Whatever positive feelings it was feeling before, they soon turned sour, as Cinder tried desperately to extinguish the fire, the heat - now that it was no longer under its control - seemed to actually affect it now.

The Nevermore looked on. Confused, and with even more questions to ask.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, sorry it isn't as big as it oughta be, considering how long it took me to write it. Midterm break, and by the looks of things, I don't write at all when I actually have the time to do it. Spent most of the time doing jack.**

**Sorry for the inconsistency, and feel free to leave a review! I don't have a beta, so there might be some grammatical errors.**


	6. Chapter 6

A few moons after the incident, Cinder - a fitting name thanks to its new **Semblance** \- seemed eager to prove itself infront of Salem, the Grimm Overlord.

The Nevermore did little in between when Cinder first showcased its new power, and now, unless try and sneak glances towards Salem. It had gained a plethora of information during their first encounter, and many of it it still couldn't understand. Thankfully, the bird's own _power_ (semblance?) seemed to give it some context on what it was.

Like that "her" was a **gender**.

Unfortunately, it only had bits and pieces of the bigger puzzle, and just knowing that it was a gender didn't really tell it what a gender was.

Still, it was odd that it gained information of everything that the Queen spoke of; even though in every other moment, the information it was given was basic, and very rarely given, even.

Perhaps this next encounter, the bird could stalk again, and gain something more? Though, it may need to leave early... The information was a little too much before.

It had taken a while for the Nevermore to find the Light again, and it was surprised to find them inside, actually. Inside of a dome with a sphere glass roof it could very easily peer into, the bird stared - noticing Cinder, Salem, and... the same taller greying Light as the other day.

**"Cinder, Watts," **she greeted both. **"Is there actual reasoning as to why Dr. Arthur Watts is here?"**

When the taller of them all took a step forward, both hands behind its back and with a confident poise, it was stopped when Salem raised her hand. **"No. I wish to hear it from her."**

Whatever confidence Cinder might've had before, it was gone now, when it realised how fruitless it really was. Why was it even acting so cocky in the first place? Its semblance could do little against the army of Grimm that'll come if the Light tries escaping.

With quickly approaching dread, Cinder opened its mouth, "**I**... faund mai **Semblance**."

Salem quirked an eyebrow, urging Cinder on.

"Um... Aiv... Aiv tokt ta **Dr. Watts** a'baut givin mi a wepan beist an it, sins it's not vari i-fektiv... æs-is, **I** gues." The Light nodded towards the older greying one - Doctor Arthur Watts seemed to be its name.

The doctor came up, and uncrossed its hands from behind its back, drawing up some sort of crushed material inside a small glass tube.

**"A vial of dust?"**

"Hevali pulva-raizd lint frægmants wid sam koul em-bedid, jar maedjasti. **Cinder's Semblance** haz di a-bilati ta tern -eni-din hot, and ta bi eibal ta cheinj its seip. Wid dis, shill bi 'eibal ta kri'eit 'eni'din av sort si di'zaiarz, if si 'kansen'treits i'naf."

Salem nodded, pleasantly surprised, but not impressed. **"Impressive. She can create any weapon, just by using a combo of her semblance, and this dust? That must have taken a lot of practice, Cinder."** Salem turned to the smaller Light, a knowing look on the queen's face.

"**I... I** hævant... ik'speramanted wid **it** jet..." Cinder whispered in response.

Salem didn't respond immediately, but she gave a cruel chuckle after a few seconds. **"I suppose we'll just have to see how you fair now, child."**

With a step behind, and with Arthur following, it seemed like the Light's battlefield was getting started. Not long afterwards, a low rumbling could be heard from further inside the castle, and a pair of gleaming red eyes could be seen, as an adult Beowulf stalked inside, until it was completely visible to everyone watching - including the other smaller Grimm.

The stalking Nevermore heard the Light's squeak of fear, as Cinder clenched its vial tighter in its hand, and unconsciously started heating it. When the Beowulf had gotten a hold of its senses, it focused on Cinder, snarled, and pounced. All in the span of 5 seconds.

With a scream that triggered the vial's normal glass breaking, the dust broke out in its candy-red hotness, and pierced the Beowulf. Breaking its balance, and instead of piercing the Light with its dark claws, it just knocked Cinder over.

With movement from its hands, Cinder painfully brought the impromptu flying blade (which looked more like a stick) out of its shoulder, ripping it out. With another cry, and with its hands above it head, Cinder brought down the blistering hot weapon it made ontop of the Beowulf.

Very sloppy, very frightened, but Cinder was capable of killing a Beowulf. It had only lasted a couple of seconds, and the seconds after the battle were even more tormenting, or so the bird assumed.

**"Sloppy, unorganised, and you let your fears take over... But you managed to kill it... _With_ your semblance."**

Salem walked towards Cinder's frantic and shaking form, looking down at it like she'd have the right to do so. **"I could tell, from that experience alone, that your semblance did not come from meditation, or not from any deep realisation of yourself. You forced it out. How?"**

When it was forced out? Well, the Nevermore had first seen the semblance when it had entered Cinder's, room. Was that it?

Cinder seemed to shake a little, but it nodded, and forced its mouth open. "**It** waz, uh... **With a** sar'praiz **from yourself, Sale- Queen Salem.** Sou... **I** tænk **you.**" The Light stood up, and seemed to bend over towards Salem. As a sign of gratitude?

**"When?"** Cinder straightened, looking at Salem with a confused expression. **"I had been here throughout your every combat encounter with Grimm, and we had yet to be able to obtain your semblance through _those_ means. When was the awakening?"**

"**Well, I-I... It was** tu deiz a'gou, mæm. **It was** bi'kaz auv **a... a... a Nevermore, I** tink."

Salem quirked her eyebrow, obviously confused by the Nevermore in question, not knowing that the same one that Cinder was talking about, was right above them.

**"Well, I won't ponder on how watching a Nevermore fly was capable of bringing out your semblance. What matters is that we got results."**

"O-Okay..."

Afterwards, a few more words were said, Cinder left, and the older Light - Arthur? - seemed to also have some words with Cinder. Pointing at the broken melted glass vial, and the now-cool joined mess that was the dust inside. Seemed like it had retained the shape that Cinder had formed it into, if only somewhat.

Cinder always was a little jumpy when the Nevermore showed up immediately after these encounters, so instead maybe it'll just spread its wings, and fly for a while.

* * *

The Nevermore was flying through the sky, the purple sky doing little to contrast against is dark silhouette. But even if its silhouette was easily visible in the contrast of the sky and clouds, the Nevermore was still hidden well, considering it was in the shadow of a much larger and armoured Nevermore.

Its power told it the main differences that the bigger one had to the smaller Nevermore - and that was the size, and the armour it had; the smaller Nevermore didn't even seem to have the advantage of speed over it, the smaller one actually had speed quite a bit, to keep up with the bigger one's lazy strokes.

its feathers also seemed to be similar, although bigger. The power also told the Nevermore its main method of attacking - bashing, and its feather rain.

Attacking. No sort of fire powers like the Light had, but the Nevermore didn't know if anyone of its kind - or anyone _else_ \- had the same all-knowing power that it had. Still, whatever power it had, it didn't seem to do it any physical powers, or not yet at least.

The shadow of the bigger Nevermore slowly drifted away, as our smaller bird dipped and dived down to the ground, but its goal wasn't any location, but an action. When it grew close enough to the rocky floor, it flapped its wings in front of itself, commanding its feathers to strike down the earth; the few that came out sticking to the ground.

It was a method of attacking, a method of defending itself, in case what happened to Cinder happened to it as well. Cinder didn't struck first, the Beowulf attacked her; and no Grimm has tried attacking it preemptively yet. Maybe if it attacked first?

So long as it could outfly them, there was no harm done.

Up ahead, towards the ocean it couldn't yet see, there lay a pack of muscular ape-like Grimm, walking on four legs. The **Beringels.**

The Nevermore caught up easily, floating behind the pack as it prepped its feathers. Without caring much for the consequences, the bird just let them soar through the sky, towards the ape Grimm, striking its back. Some hit the armour, and the few that hit fur, less so stuck; but it's obvious the Grimm felt it when it stopped, and turned around to look.

Somehow, it didn't even see the Nevermore, and the Nevermore _knew_ it wasn't because of some tunnel vision of the Grimm. It was just ignored, as the Grimm quickly went back on its track.

Its feathers didn't seem to do much of anything to it. So, either the Light's opponent was very weak, or the Light's newfound power is very strong.

Could the Nevermore match? Its physical attacks seemed much weaker in comparison.

Well, the Nevermore didn't know much, so maybe it was missing something. Besides, it could just fly away if anything happened, so it should be fine. Still, the Nevermore still has a lot it wants to learn, and Cinder didn't seem to shy away from it as much as it did.

Speaking of, Cinder had most likely already calmed down over its _training, _it was probably safe to come back now.

Not that there was much _else_ it could do, anyways.

* * *

When it grew close to the ruined castle - closer to its usual spot by the Light's window - the Nevermore _knew_ that there was something watching it, and it didn't need to look around too much, as who was looking at it, was in the same room as the Light was.

Salem, the queen of darkness, was there as well, staring at it as its slow descent towards the room became slower and slower with her intense glare. Unlike the other Grimm, the Nevermore didn't really have any sense of obligation towards her. Respect, maybe, but no real command.

Still, the moment hadn't lasted too long, Salem turned back to Cinder and finished whatever it was she was saying.

**"To summarise, your understanding of math seems to be _lower_ than even I had anticipated; I'll ask you to re-learn the basics as soon as possible, Cinder,"** then, she turned her back to both of them, and made her way towards the door. **"Be quick. I'm not fond of those who circumvent my orders."**

The door was closed before Cinder could reply, even though it had the time to do so. Cinder sighed as it turned around, its pencil in hand, and getting ready to do what Salem told it to "be quick" about. The Light took a quick glance at the Nevermore, but didn't seem to do much else after that.

Meanwhile, the Nevermore was again hit with another onslaught of information, knowing every word that Salem spoke, and one seemed to interest it _very_ much.

**Math.** The study belonging to numbers - how they affect one another, and the world.

Was that what the Light was learning?

Math seemed to be what the Nevermore needed, to really understand how much is "too many" when compared to something that is "too little." Yes, it had the general idea, but it still couldn't rationalise how there was more of something.

Could Cinder help? What knowledge Salem said Cinder lacked, the Nevermore lacked more, and if it was learning the basics? It was exactly what the Nevermore wanted.

With that, minutes after Salem had left and Cinder was already doing what it was told, the Nevermore flapped its wings, and flew over to sit by Cinder's desk, Cinder noticing immediately and flinching, its attention clearly on the bird.

Since the Nevermore didn't do anything, Cinder decided to just keep doing what it was trying to do.

It was a few minutes in that the Nevermore - who was failing to understand anything - suddenly caw'd at one of Cinder's gestures, surprising it. Confused at the sudden interruption, the Light looked at it, and saw how intently the Nevermore was looking at its fingers.

Cinder's fingers were up, and the Nevermore knew that there were more fingers up than there were down, and it knew that the Light was somehow reasoning it, it was the basics of math that not even it knew.

Whether it was curious, wanted a break, or just because it lost track, Cinder decided to humour the bird.

Taking out some sort of container, Cinder zipped it open, and brought out similar things it was using to write - a good few, even. It stuck a few between its fingers, and pointed at each of them, saying something about each.

"Wan, tu, tri..."

Were they names? Were names related to math?

Cinder shook its head when the Nevermore quirked its head in question. Again, the Light said the same names, but instead of pointing, it raised a finger for each of its words, making emphasis on the pencils.

"Wan... tu... tri..."

Were they related? Could some fusion of both be the true answer to math?

Cinder seemed to let out a sigh of frustration, as it let the pencils drop down to the floor; it opened up its book to a random page, and just _ripped_ out the papers, scaring the Nevermore back a bit. But it wasn't a sign of (too much) rage, as Cinder ripped tinier and tinier pieces, leaving the Light with a handful in its hand.

The Nevermore watched as Cinder organised its wrapped up paper balls each into a corner - one section had a single, the other had a single more, and the third one had a single more than the one before. If the Nevermore had pupils, they'd be shrinking in realisation, as it slowly realised what Cinder was telling the Grimm, its own power helping.

"**One, two, three,**" Cinder said, as it pointed out each group. When Cinder turned to the Grimm, it saw the bird staring at the papers, and then up at the Light; the Grimm's movements weren't slow, like it was too busy processing, it had figured out what the Light was saying.

Cinder - fascinated - took a hold of some of the papers, and showed a quantity of them in its hand to it. "**Four.**"

The Grimm nodded, there were four pieces of paper in Cinder's hand.

Its hand retracted, as it put more in, and repeated what it just did. "**Five.**"

Before there were four, but now there were five, and this simple act amazed the Nevermore.

Cinder kept doing this throughout the night, even writing the numbers down, the Nevermore immediately cataloguing them, familiar with them the minute they were shown, thanks to its power.

It was some time later that the Light had started slowing down, trying to teach the Nevermore how to count by identifying the correct quantity of numbers, and it had gotten every answer flawlessly. But for whatever reason now, maybe the newfound _semblance,_ Cinder was tired.

With some shooing to the nightmare bird - which didn't do much - Cinder closed the books, left its notebook open, and went off to bed, the surprisingly strong lighting not bothering the Light.

With its defenceless back to her, the Nevermore went back to looking at the numbers. **"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 0,"** zero meaning nothing. This was the basis of math, and the Grimm had a feeling it'd be using it for a while.

* * *

**A/N: A'right fellas, sorry it took so long, but I haven't given up on it, it just took me a while to get used to, you know, being in quarantine. Speaking of, I hope y'all're OK with whatever's going on; I wish the best of luck to you.**

**And on a side note, is the speaking thing getting obnoxious? I've tried giving context to what they were saying, in case people couldn't understand/be bothered to understand, but I can understand how annoying it might be to read it. Please, tell me if I should stop, I'll just have the words the Nevermore doesn't know in **standard text,** and the ones in BOLD. Then again, this'll only last a few more chapters.**


End file.
